


Memories We Can't Remember

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing and Singing, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Fluff and Angst, On the Road Again Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5153792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry took a deep breath in and belted out his last phrase, staring straight at Abigail, “I wanna love like you made me feel when we were 14.” Giving a cheeky grin and a slight bow, he picked up his mic stand and moved it back to the middle of the stage. He wasn’t sure if any of the fans or the boys had even heard his simple change to the lyrics. Abigail had though. He was sure of it. Judging from the look she gave him as he walked away, he knew the rest of the night was definitely going to be interesting.</p><p>----</p><p>Or the one where Harry Style's very first girlfriend back from Grade 7 comes to an OTRA tour concert. Antics ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories We Can't Remember

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the fact that Harry Style's first girlfriend ever, Abigail, did come to one of the OTRA concerts a few weeks ago. So Abigail isn't an original character, she's a real person. I felt incredibly creepy writing a fairly normal girl into a fan fiction, but I figured since the other boy's ex-girlfriends have that its okay, right? 
> 
> This idea has been floating around in my head ever since I read this article.
> 
> http://www.mtv.com/news/2364507/harry-styles-reunion-girlfriend-one-direction/
> 
> As always, I don't own any of these characters.
> 
> Its literally just a bunch of fluff, but somehow it became an 11,000 word oneshot? Bless you for reading!:)

“We love you so much, Sheffield.” Liam screams into the microphone. He turns around in a circle, trying to wave to as many fans as possible. 

“We want to say a massive thank you to everyone who came tonight, you were an incredible audience.” Niall belts, making his way to the staircase where the band gives its final bow at the end of their concert each night. As usual, he’s the first one to start the trek. With his bum foot it takes him an embarrassingly long time to make it to the top of the stairs. He had learned that the hard way the first concert he wore the boot. Now he’s just made it a habit to start climbing the stairs as soon as the final goodbyes start. 

The other boys follow suit, and soon all four members of One Direction have reached the top of the stairs. “We hope to see you all again soon,” Harry concludes, giving his signature bow and kisses before exiting the stage with the rest of the lads.

“Tonight was sick,” Louis comments as the foursome come off the stage. The boys all nod in agreement, and begin making their own comments on how the show had gone when they are met by a flurry of people. Water bottles, cellphones, and schedules are thrust into their hands.

“You’ve got four interviews tomorrow morning, first is at 9.” A new PA whose name Harry wishes he could remember says rather loudly over the crowd. She points at Harry. “For the first two interview you all will be split up. Harry, you and Niall will be together and Liam and Louis will be together.” Harry sees Louis roll his eyes at this. Harry hopes Louis won’t complain about it, even though he thinks it’s ridiculous too. “For the final two, it will be a group interview. A car will be at the hotel at 8:30 to get you, don’t be late.” She pauses. “So, please, if possible, try to make it an early night tonight.” She looks at Louis as he begins to protest. “I’m just trying to make life easier for your publicists.” That garners a snort from Niall. Louis makes a smart comment about paying his publicist for a reason under his breath as the PA continues. “Great show tonight, only two more in Sheffield.” Apparently, that was the end of speech. The herd of people follows her out of the room, and soon the boys are left alone again.

“Two more nights,” Niall remarks. “How the hell did we get down to two more shows?” Harry quickly tunes Niall’s comment out as the other boys make their own similar comments. He’s not ready to deal with that emotion quite yet. It seems incredibly surreal that the tour life they had come to know and love (and occasionally hate) over the past five years was ending. As much as the group desperately needed, wanted, and frankly deserved a break, it was going to be a very strange transition. 

Instead of listening to the lad’s conversation, Harry attempts to distract himself by checking his phone. He has several twitter mentions already from the concert, a rather sweet text message from his mother, and a handful of snapchats waiting to be opened. He quickly opens twitter and sent out a quick tweet- _Tonight was incredible, Sheffield. All the love. H._ Sending out the same boring tweets becomes a bit repetitive, but Harry does it for the fans. He knows that the next time he checks twitter, that simple tweet will have been favorited and retweeted a ridiculous amount of times. 

Harry taps out a quick response to his mother, promising to call her soon. Turning his attention to Snapchat, he sees he has two from his sister, several from the “one direction” account, and one from Abigail. Intrigued, he decides to open his former girlfriend now close friend’s snap first. Harry instantly smiling as a cute little boy’s toothy grin comes across his screen. Captioned “my Friday night date”, Harry realizes Abigail must be babysitting. A student at a university in Manchester, Harry knows Abigail makes most of her spending money through nannying kids like the one whose picture had just flashed on his phone. Quickly snapping a photo giving a pouty face Harry types _“I thought I was your Friday night date.”_

While opening up his other snaps, Harry thinks about his relationship with his ex-girlfriend. It was strange even calling her that. Harry had dated Abigail in grades 7 and 8. They had broken up long before his career started, when One Direction wasn’t a household name, and the name “Harry Styles” didn’t immediately give every girl on the planet the giggles. They had hated each other in grade 9, but somehow became particularly good friends during grade 10. By the time Harry rose to instant stardom, Abigail had secured a very permanent place in his heart. They didn’t get to spend much time together these days; international sold out tours tend to take up a bit of time. They managed to keep up with each other’s lives though; social media is a lovely thing. 

Putting his phone on the couch next to him, Harry puts his feet on the coffee table in front of him and sinks into his seat. He’s exhausted. The thought of tomorrow makes him grimace. It wasn’t a super crazy schedule, but when the alternative is staying in bed, most everything else fails to compare. Bed. It’s such a nice word. Harry is about to suggest to the boys that they call the car to take them back to their hotel when he feels the cushion he’s sitting on vibrate. He is surprised to see that Abigail has texted him. 

_“You know I’d always love a Friday night date with you. Didn’t you have a date with about 40,000 other girls tonight, though?”_

Harry chuckles while typing out a reply. _“True, true. You still coming to the show tomorrow night?”_

The typing bubble immediately pops up as Abigail quickly responds. _“Absolutely. Thanks again for comping me the tickets. My girlfriends and I can’t wait. ☺ ☺ ☺”_ Harry loves Abigail’s zest for emojis. Although he rarely uses them, he loves receiving them as seeing the emotion makes it feel like the person is right there in the room with him. 

Harry quickly replies, _“I’d comp you tickets to every show if I could. Please make sure to come back stage afterwards. It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other.”_ Harry stares at his phone waiting for her reply.

_“I suppose we could manage to drop in for a bit :p We could see each other more often if you stopped, you know, being an international superstar.”_

_“Maybe. But without that, who would get you into cool concerts and clubs though?”_ Harry pauses before sending another text. _“I’ll make sure to have someone come get you after the concert is over.”_

_“You’re the best, see you tomorrow. x”_

Harry slides his phone into his pocket, a grin coming across his face. Whenever he talks to Abigail, he’s just happy. “Harry.” A sharp voice brings him out of his happy daydream. Jerking his head to the other side of the room he sees three boys looking expectantly at him. “We’ve called you like three times, mate.” Liam shouts. “We are heading back to the hotel.” Harry nods, dragging himself from the couch across the room. “Thought we’d check out that new bar on the other side of town for a bit.”

“Didn’t we just get told not to do that?” Harry asks as the group makes their way through the hallways backstage at the stadium. He is surprised they actually remembered the way out. It had been several long hours since they had first entered the building. 

“We wouldn’t stay out long.” Niall promises, a sparkle in his eye. Harry rolls his eyes. That’s what they always said. As they walk outside the four boys are attacked by the bitter October wind. A car is already waiting for them. 

“You’re saying that you’d rather walk around in this weather, than go snuggle in a warm bed?” Harry asks, already knowing what the answer would be. 

“That’s why you get drunk, Haz. It makes you warm in all the right places.” Liam explains, as they loaded into the car. 

“Rain check for tonight, boys.” Harry concludes. He stifles a yawn as the car pulls away from the stadium. “I’ve got to get some sleep.” Thankful to be sitting next to the window, he rests his head gently on the glass. It is cold, but in a refreshing way. 

“Every party has a pooper and that’s why we invited you.” Niall jokingly sings as Harry closes his eyelids, they were suddenly feeling so heavy. 

“Next time.” Harry murmurs, drifting to sleep before Niall even has time to finish his song. 

\-----  
Harry scans the crowd as he sings passionately into his microphone the final words of “Through the Dark” the next evening. He’s looking for Abigail and her friends. The concert was over halfway over and he still hadn’t seen her yet. Obviously, it was difficult to see the crowd from the stage, what with the crazy lighting and limited view. However, he knew what seats he had comped her, and they should definitely be close enough for him to see her. _It isn’t weird,_ he thinks, almost giving himself permission to be upset that he couldn’t find her in the crowd. 

Harry likes to pick on his friends and family when they come to concerts. Jack Robinson, his friend from school. His sister. He loves sharing this experience with them, even if it does result in a bit of teasing. It’s all in good fun, and they know it. 

Niall speaks for a minute after “Through the Dark” and then “18” begins. While Harry knows he shouldn’t have a favorite song that wasn’t written by their band, “18” easily takes that position. It is a simply beautifully written love song. Maybe it’s also his favorite because he sings nearly the whole song. Regardless, Harry forgets his search for Abigail momentarily, putting his whole heart into the song. They reach the bridge where Liam and Louis take over singing for a few verses. 

Harry walks over to the other end of the stage, holding up his microphone to the crowd, as if he’s giving them a chance to sing the song. That’s when he see’s her. She isn’t looking at him; she’s dancing with her friends, clearly immersed in the trance that this song can cause. Its only when one of her friends realizes that Harry is staring that she turns around. She gives a wave and blows him a kiss before singing along with Louis as he sings his solo.

 _“I have loved you since we were 18. Long before we both thought the same thing-“_ Harry returns the mic to his mouth to finish the phrase with the rest of the band _“to be loved and to be in love.”_

Harry stays on that side of the stage as the song continues. And that’s when it happens. 

Lyric changes at a One Direction concert are fairly common, or at least they used to be. Back during the band’s first couple of tours it had almost been a contest to see who could come up with the most ridiculous ones. Harry likes to think that his “big brown poooooo” lyrics during “Gotta Be You” was hands down the best lyric change of all time. The thing about it is, is that its so random and so unplanned. Its like one minute you’re singing the right words and the next a literary masterpiece that most of the time makes no sense pops right out. 

The lyric changes had slowed down at their concerts, as the boys got more and more popular. It was almost like an unsaid rule from their management, that while it had been a cute idea when they were first starting out now they needed to be serious. As if they were ever serious at any of their concerts in the first place. Regardless, Harry was pretty sure no one was expecting a lyric change at their 2nd to last show of their tour. He wasn’t even planning on doing it. It was like cosmically designed- he was in the right place at the right time, and it just slipped out.

Harry takes a deep breath in and belts out his last phrase, staring straight at Abigail, _“I wanna love like you made me feel when we were 14.”_ Giving a cheeky grin and a slight bow, he picks up his mic stand and moves it back to the middle of the stage. He isn’t sure if any of the fans or the boys had even heard his simple change to the lyrics. Abigail had though. He was sure of it. Judging from the look she gave him as he walked away, he knew the rest of the night was definitely going to be interesting.

\----

Harry sees Abigail and her four friends being led his way by security as the PA, whose name he found out was Donna, is finishing her nightly talk. A schedule for tomorrow is being thrust into his hand as she leaves. Quickly excusing himself, Harry envelops Abigail in a big hug as she approaches. Easily lifting her in the air, he twirls her around once before stopping to whisper, “missed you” in her ear. Her arms around his waist, she gives him a tight squeeze before releasing. 

After introducing himself to her friends, he leads the group out of the hallway into the band’s dressing room. Offering them all something to drink, Harry grabs a water bottle for himself before sitting down. The girls have managed to all squeeze onto the couch, leaving Harry with his pick of the three chairs. Picking the one closest to the couch, he sinks into it. “So did you enjoy the concert?” He asks, taking a sip of water.

One of the friends, he’s pretty sure she’s called Elle, responds first. “Absolutely incredible.” She gushes. Harry smirks. Elle continues to mention her favorite parts of the concert as a grin creeps onto Harry’s face. 

Seeing that, Abigail interrupts Elle. “She’s only met you tonight, Harry. She’s allowed to fan girl for a minute.” Elle’s cheeks instantly turned pink, she gives Abigail a pointed look. 

Harry nods. “Absolutely, please continue.” He smiles deeply enough to show a dimple in his left cheek. “I honestly do love hearing what others think.” 

“I had a favorite part,” Another one of Abigail’s friends spoke up, Matilda. “Actually it was a specific line in a song.” She sends a look at Abigail, her cheeks now being the one to turn red. Harry nearly chokes on the water he is sipping. “Now, I am a fan of the band.” Matilda assures as Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coughing slightly. “I’ve heard the song “18” several times, and I’m pretty positive that you sang something different tonight.” 

Harry looks at Abigail, who appears to be just as curious as Matilda. “You’re right.” He says finally. “I wanted to make you feel special tonight.” He gives a toothy grin. “When I have guests, I like to call them out. At least I didn’t say anything embarrassing about you like I did with Jack.” He grins, Abigail knows Jack too. 

“I certainly do appreciate that. I don’t really care for our dirty laundry to be spread at a One Direction concert.” Abigail replies. While what she had said could be taken lightheartedly, Harry gathers from the tone in her voice that it probably wasn’t. He isn’t quite sure how to respond to it either. 

An uncomfortable lull in the conversation is quickly averted as the other 3 members of the band enter the room. “STYLES!” Niall yells as he runs across the room to his friend. The Irish boy is already holding a beer in his right hand. Seeing the entourage of females in his dressing room, Niall clamps his left hand onto Harry’s shoulder saying, “Mind introducing us to your lovely lady friends?” As more introductions are made, the participants naturally fall into individual conversations. Seeing Abigail talking with Liam, Harry takes this time to run to the restroom.

Once inside Harry splashes some water on his face, and runs his hands through his hair. Looking in the mirror he’s pleased to see that he doesn’t look quite as tired as he feels. He is concerned about how the night is going with Abigail though. It had never been awkward before when she had come to his concerts. They had always gotten along so well. He loved that they could go months without seeing each other, and still be able to pick up right where they left off when they were reunited.

 _Did the lyric changes during “18” really make her that uncomfortable?_ Harry wonders. He had certainly intended it as a joke, something for them to both laugh at. He knows he’ll probably have to broach the subject again at some point in the night. He certainly didn’t want her to leave on bad terms. 

Realizing he has been in the bathroom a ridiculously long amount of time, Harry takes one last look in the mirror before returning into the main room. The group has converged into one big one, and they appear to be discussing something intently. Louis sees Harry enter the room, and motions for him to come over. As he gets closer, the group suddenly all rises to their feet. “Harry,” Liam calls. “We’re going out!” 

“Tonight?” He instantly regrets the whine that’s clearly evident in his voice. 

“Yes, tonight.” Niall says, swinging his arm around Harry’s neck. “You promised that you’d go out next time. It’s next time.” His eyes are sparkling. “We don’t have anything to do tomorrow morning, and Tommo’s leaving after the show tomorrow to go home. This is our last chance to go out on tour as a foursome.”

“Well, who can argue with that logic?” Harry says, easily giving in. Niall is right. He turns to Abigail. “You all are coming too?” He doesn’t want to appear too eager, but he doesn’t want his reunion with his friend to be this short lived. He smiles widely when Abigail nods her head. “Well alright then,” he says, exiting into the hallway, “lets get this party started!”

\---

Its several hours later when Harry tries to stand up to go to the bathroom that he realizes how drunk he is. He sways a bit before falling back into his seat, giggling. The band and the girls have commandeered the largest booth in the club for hours. Not being super subtle with their arrival, the band has been consistently given free drinks the whole night. Even now their table is full of pint glasses, shot glasses, and plastic cups. They will never finish them all, but that doesn’t stop the fans from buying them anyway. The band has been very kind, posing for pictures, signing autographs, evening singing a clip of one of their songs for a fan to post on vine. 

The band is slap happy drunk at this point. Harry can’t remember the last time he felt this carefree or the last time the four of them were together, this happy. Of course going on stage is a rush, but in that there is also an incredible amount of pressure to perform. Here in this bar, he isn’t Harry- singer of One Direction, multi millionaire, going to change the world- Styles. He’s just Harry. 

Relaxing further into the booth, Harry sees Niall and one of Abigail’s friends, the quiet one that hadn’t spoken during their brief dressing room conversation, talking. _Leave it to Niall to hit it off with the quietest of the bunch,_ Harry muses. Niall whispers something in her ear. She quickly nods, giggling, and he holds out his hand to her, helping her out of the booth. The two head to the dance floor. 

“Wouldn’t have picked Natalie to be the one to get Niall’s attention.” A female voice calls out from beside him, echoing his same thoughts. He feels Abigail rest her head on his shoulder. “It’s kinda cute though. I dig it.” She concludes. Harry nods in agreement. He gently leans his head onto hers, readjusting the way he is sitting to be most comfortable. He observes the rest of the group, chatting away amicably. Smiling, he closes his eyes and breathes out loudly. 

“I’m tired.” Harry announces. He can feel Abigail nodding her head in agreement. “I could fall asleep right here.” 

“Do you really want to sleep away your last night out on tour?” Abigail asks in a teasing voice.

Harry jerks his head up. “No.” He stands up far too quickly, practically falling over. Thankfully he’s able to recover before completely wiping out. He thrusts his hand out towards Abigail, who up until that point has been trying not to laugh at Harry’s sudden outburst.

“Where are we going?” Abigail asks, putting her hand in Harry’s. Her transition from the booth to the floor is much smoother than Harry’s. As they walk around the booth, Harry puts his arm around Abigail. 

“To the dance floor.” Harry replies, like his intentions are obvious. “We can’t let Niall and Natalie show us up.”

As they reach the dance floor the chorus of the song that had been playing starts. Harry releases his arm from her side and suddenly makes a grab for her hand. Leading her through the crowd of people they find themselves in the middle of the dance floor. Jumping and grinding up on all the people around them. In the dark lighting of the club no one can tell body parts apart. No one knows Harry Style’s arm from John Doe. Bumping and jumping to the beat, the dancers belt out the lyrics.

_Oh don’t you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me_

_I said you’re holding back, she said, “Shut up and dance with me!”_

_This woman is my destiny; she said “ooooo, shut up and dance with me!”_

Harry loves the anonymity he feels in this moment. He’s just another boy in a club. Looking at the girl in front of him, he pictures what he would say if they had met in a club. She’s so carefree, jumping and singing at the top of her lungs. “You’re beautiful.” Harry voices, the alcohol doing most of the talking. 

Call it divine intervention or just good luck, but Harry figures that when Abigail calls out “what?” that he should probably keep his mouth shut. Instead, he grabs her hand and raises it in the air. Pulling her closer, they grind wordlessly staring each other as the final words of the song play. 

The two are pulled apart, only by the words of the DJ. “In honor of having the lads of One Direction in the house, its been requested that we spin one of your first hits.” Harry instantly groans, whatever moment he was having with Abigail lost. 

Placing his head on Abigail’s shoulder he breaths out loudly. “If its ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ I’m going to go break his DJ machine,” he whispers into Abigail’s shoulder before the music starts. This elicits a giggle out of Abigail. Thankfully, the tunes that start playing are from another song, one he hadn’t heard in quite a while, “Kiss You”. The familiar beginning of the song has only just begun when suddenly his three band mates appear at his side.

“Can’t believe they are playing this!” Liam shouts.

“We haven’t sung this in ages!” Louis remarks. 

And just like that the boys are transported back in time to a simpler age. Where their biggest worries were who was getting what solo and whose turn it was to play on the tour bus X-Box. It’s a time Harry misses. 

As the song starts Niall takes it upon himself to sing Zayn’s solo at the beginning. Belting it out, he dances with Natalie across the dance floor. A bit of an open circle has formed around them since the club goers realized that all four members of the band are among them. 

Harry has no intention of putting on another performance tonight, but that is quickly forgotten when Liam places his hand under Harry’s mouth like a fake microphone as his solo approaches. Grabbing Liam’s hand, Harry belts out his solo like his life depends on it.

_“Oh tell me, tell me, tell me how to turn your love on._

_You can get, get anything that you want_

_Baby just shout it out, shout it out, baby, shout it out, yeaaaaaaaaaaah!”_

Liam starts singing his own solo, and Harry is once again met with Abigail’s face. He takes her hands in his, and they wait for the chorus to start. 

_“So tell me girl if every time we touch, you get this kinda rush_

_Say yeaaaaaaaaah, yeaaaaaaaaaah”_

Abigail is belting out the words just as loud as Harry, jumping, eyes bright, smiling wide. That’s why he does it, as they reach the end of the chorus, he looks at that beautiful face, screaming _“let me KISS YOU”_ and gives her a soft kiss. It’s so quick, innocent, and light that he isn’t even sure if he’s actually done it at first. However, the look on her face and slight tingling sensation he’s feeling in his face prove that it did happen. 

Pulling her in for a quick hug, he whispers, “I’m sorry,” into her ear. 

She responds quickly, “Don’t be.” 

Suddenly he’s being pulled from Abigail by Niall and Liam. They are dragging him, hand in hand, towards the stage of the club. He can hear that the song is reaching the bridge. Throwing his hands in the air, he starts yelling “nah, nah, nah”. This catches on quickly, and suddenly the whole club is following the hand movement. They reach the stage, where Louis is already standing. They dance for what seems like only seconds before its Louis’ turn to belt out his solo. After wildly applauding his effort, Harry suddenly sees Abigail at the foot of the stage. Reaching out his hand, he easily pulls her up to where he is standing. Neither speaks. He knows where this is headed. “Come with me.” He murmurs, jumping off stage. He holds her hand as they navigate through the crowds. He’s trying to get out of the throng of people before the song ends. It seems like they are held captive by the song’s spell, and once it ends the moment will be over too. 

They reach the bathroom right as the final “let me kiss you” is playing. Pushing him up against the wall, Abigail surprises Harry. She lets out a giggle before pushing her lips against his. This kiss is passionate, full of desire, nothing like the sweet one on the dance floor earlier. 

Harry almost feels like he is in a trance. Moving his lips down her neck, he can taste her body splash. It’s sweet, fruity. He can feel her running her fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead. He moans as he feels her hands coming down his shirt. Its only when he feels her hands reach for his belt that he stops her. Pulling her hands back up to his face, he kisses her in between words. “I can’t have sex in a public bathroom.” Their kissing slows to an even pace.

“Why not?” She whines. 

Taking a deep breath Harry quickly spouts out, “It would be a PR nightmare if we got caught.” He felt her put one hand down into his jeans, fingers inching precariously close to groin. “Stop.” He begs, not sure how much longer he can hold out. Thankfully, she removes her hand and brings it back up to his cheek. “Second,” he continues. “You’re drunk. Friends don’t let friends do stupid things when they are drunk.” 

“Having sex with you is stupid?” She laughs. “And you’re drunk too.” She argues. Harry has to admit that she’s right. He can’t believe that he’s actually cognizant enough to be making this rational of a decision. He decides it’s probably years of media training and overbearing management seeping into his subconscious. 

To make her point hit home even more, Harry’s body decides at that moment to prove to him just how much alcohol he has consumed that night. His stomach suddenly feeling very queasy, he begs for a moment alone in the bathroom. After much pleading, Abigail agrees to leave to get Harry a glass of water, only on the condition that he let her back in when she returned. Shutting and locking the door behind her, Harry sits down on the floor. Trying to ignore how dirty the floor is, he puts his face against the cold wall. The room appeared to be spinning. He’s sure it is a mix of the alcohol currently sloshing around in his stomach, mixed with the dancing from earlier and the heat of his body wrapped up with Abigail’s that’s led him to this predicament. Trying to breath in and out slowly, he knows it’s no use. At times like these he knows the best thing is just to vomit and get it over with. Not even using energy to get to his feet, he crawls over to the toilet. That motion is all that it takes for the contents of his stomach to spill out into the toilet. After a few more dry heaves he sits back against the wall facing the toilet. He does feel better, his brain feels less clogged. 

Pulling his hair into a ponytail, he ponders _what the actual fuck_ just happened with Abigail. The two hadn’t snogged since they were 14 and suddenly they are about to have a quickie in a bar bathroom? _Alcohol,_ he reasons, _lots and lots of alcohol._ But even as he sits there trying to convince himself he’s pretty sure that’s not the only answer. 

He hears a knock on the door, signaling that Abigail is back. As much as he doesn’t want too, he reluctantly flushes the toilet and proceeds to open the door. Abigail has two cups of water in her hands. She’s smiling when Harry opens the door, but it quickly turns into a frown when she sees him. He figures he must look pretty pitiful for her mood to change that quickly. She wets a paper towel and holds it against his head, while encouraging him to take sips of water. 

Feeling absolutely exhausted, Harry lowers himself back to the floor and lays his head in Abigail’s lap. She strokes his hair softy, dabbing the paper towel on his forehead. There is something so gentle and serene about her touch.

Harry isn’t sure how long he lies there, but he must have fallen asleep because suddenly he hears voices, male voices. “We could just carry him out.” One of them is suggesting.

“Yeah, that’ll look really great,” another argues, Harry thinks he hears an Irish accent. “’Member of One Direction band carried out of night club the day before their final show.’ That’ll make a great headline.” 

“Well I don’t think he’s going to walk out.” Harry stirs causing the voices to stop. Opening his eyes he sees Niall and Liam standing over him. He’s still lying in Abigail’s lap, her coat now draped over his legs. 

“I can walk,” He replies hoarsely. His voice sounds so far away, like it wasn’t coming from his mouth. 

“Are you sure?” Abigail looks down on him, concerned. 

He nods, licking his lips. Abigail gives him the cup of water she had brought earlier, which he eagerly sips on. “I’m fine.” That earns an eye roll from Abigail and a snort from Niall. “Okay, I’m drunk, but I’m not going to black out again.”

Niall goes to call a car and their security, while Liam and Abigail help Harry stand up. He smells, he can smell himself, and it isn’t nice. Harry avoids the mirror, trusting that if something was seriously wrong with his appearance Abigail would fix it before they go out in public. Abigail leaves Liam and Harry in the bathroom to go retrieve her bag from their long since abandoned booth in the back of the nightclub. 

Once she has left Liam gives Harry a sideways glance, “What the hell happened to you?”

Harry sighs, “Just too much fun mixed with too little sleep,” he says shrugging. “I kissed her.” He pauses. “That’s why we were in here. I was trying to convince her not to shag me right here in this bathroom when I well, you know-“ He stops, not wanting to say the actual words.

“Tossed your cookies?” Liam guesses. Harry nods miserably. “At least you weren’t with a rando.” 

“I guess that’s one way to look at it.” Harry concludes. Thankfully, Abigail chooses that moment to reenter the bathroom. 

“Niall’s out front, ready to go?” She asks, eyeing Harry. He nods, holding out his hand. She takes it, guiding him out of the bathroom, back into the dim lighting of the club. Harry has no clue what time it was, but judging by the small amount of people still left on the dance floor he guesses it’s probably pretty late. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Harry asks as they reached the front door.

“Louis left a little while ago, so did my friends. I figured I’d stay until I knew that you could get home on your own.” She shrugs and Harry squeezes her hand. Two cars are waiting for them when they walk outside. There are very few paps at this hour, but Harry already knows that he’s going to have to avoid the Internet for a few days. He doesn’t want to see these pictures, ever. 

Almost as if on cue, Harry suddenly sees bright flashes coming from the left. He hears Niall mumble, “fuck off”. Of course, its soft enough that only Harry can hear it. Harry sighs and tries to appear as least drunk as possible as he climbs into the car. He and Abigail are in one, Liam and Niall in the other. Thankfully, he gets into the car rather gracefully, and soon they are off to their hotel. 

It’s only when he looks over and sees Abigail trying to text with one hand that he realizes he’s still holding her other one. Sheepishly, he tries to naturally untangle their fingers. Its not, its awkward. “I just wanted to give you the freedom to text with both hands.” He reasons when Abigail looks up from her phone giving him a weird look. 

“Thanks,” she says, as she reaches over and takes his hand again. “But I was doing just fine.” She returns her attention to her phone, letting their intertwined fingers rest on Harry’s thigh. 

“Well okay then.” Harry mumbles, a smile coming across his face. He leans his head back against the headrest. His head is still swimming, but in a good way this time, he decides. His nap on the bathroom floor has done him some good. He suddenly doesn’t want this night to end. “What time is it?” He asks Abigail. 

“Quarter to three.” Abigail says barely looking away from her phone. “The tube has its last departure back to Manchester at 3:17. The timing works out rather well.” 

Harry’s smile disappears from his face. “I thought you were staying here tonight?” 

Abigail laughs. “Come on, Styles. You know I can’t afford a hotel in Sheffield.” She laughs like what he is implying is utterly ridiculous. “I’m a poor uni student.”

“I could have gotten you a room.” He pouts. “I thought we would see each other tomorrow. I don’t have anything planned, I thought we could catch up.” He pauses but when it’s obvious Abigail doesn’t have a comeback he continues. “Well then, we have 33 minutes.” He hastily looks around at his surroundings. He isn’t super familiar with this area and has no clue what it will offer in regards to entertainment. Its mostly dark as the car drives through the town, until he sees a light up ahead. “Pull over in there.” He yells to the driver, pointing at what he thinks is a McDonalds or maybe it’s a Wendy’s. He’s a bit drunk at the moment and doesn’t really care for reading signs. All that he knows is that the place is open, and that’s good enough for him.

“What are we doing?” Abigail asks, clearly confused but not upset. 

“Having an adventure.” He replies as if the question was the dumbest thing she’s ever said. “Come on.” He pulls her out of the car. The pair falls into an even step together, hands still clasped together. He runs excitedly towards the door, dragging her along. “Oh my gosh.” He stops in his tracks. Abigail has no clue what has caught Harry’s attention, wildly looking around for a clue. Harry’s suddenly moving again and Abigail races to catch up. 

“This is just going to be perfect.” Harry is babbling, finally reaching his destination he turns around smiling triumphantly.

“A photo booth?” Abigail asked, slightly confused. The photo booth is right outside of the restaurant, and she can't figure out why he'd rather spend their short time taking pictures than eating.

“Yes!” He pulls her into the booth and the two sit down. “How will I remember this night if I don’t have any photographic evidence?” 

Abigail decides Harry has a valid point. “What memories do you want?” She asks as Harry puts a few coins into the slot.

“You’re smile.” Harry suddenly tickles Abigail causing her to give the loudest squeal as the camera clicks. “You’re laugh.” The duo both pose with their silliest faces. “And that kiss.” He says quietly before quickly brushing his lips against hers as the camera flashes for the final time. Harry’s already jumped out of the booth to wait on their pictures while Abigail processes what just happened.

“Do we need to get a picture of you vomming everywhere too?” She asks, trying to be humorous when she climbs out of the booth. Apparently, Harry’s not going to talk about the kiss so she’s going to brush past it too.

“Nope,” Harry says shaking his head. “Pretty sure that ones going to be in my brain forever.” He assures her. Their photo finally pops out of the machine and Harry holds it up in front of both of them. “The memories for the memories we can’t remember.” He hands the photo strip to Abigail. 

“Damn, are you always this poetic when you’re drunk?” Abigail asks as the two walk into the restaurant. 

Harry shrugs as the approach the counter where they find out that the restaurant does in fact close at 3AM. So they hurriedly order an ice cream cone each, and an order of French fries to share. They sit at a booth, where Harry immediately demands Abigail share every single detail of her life since the last time he saw her. So she does. She tells Harry how her sister has decided to move to America for college, how she actually loves her flat mates even though she’s always been told dorm life was atrocious, and even about Winston, the cute kid she had babysit for the previous night. Harry takes it all in, laughing at appropriate times, and giving sage advice (‘tell your sister I’ve been to America a few times, its not worth the hype’). Time isn’t their friend though, 15 minutes is quickly up and suddenly they are being escorted out of the building by a rather unfriendly employee.

They have just walked through the doorway when Harry suddenly stops and turns back around to the employee. “Where is the closest tube station?” He asks. “This party pooper has to go home.” He says pointing to Abigail who jokingly swats him on the shoulder. 

“Its only about a quarter mile up the road.” 

Saying goodnight, Harry and Abigail head out into the night. It’s gotten colder in the 15 minutes they were inside, or maybe just windier. 

“Let’s walk.” Harry says excitedly. It’s clear from his actions that he certainly is not sober yet. He jumps up and down like an inpatient child waiting for Abigail’s response.

“Walk? It’s cold.” She reasons. Harry is already pulling off his jacket for Abigail to wear when she speaks again. “Don’t give me your jacket.” He feigns offense. “I can’t be the reason that Harry Styles gets sick and ruins the last One Direction concert.” She reasons. 

“’M not going to get sick.” He protests. “And even if I did, I’ve already performed sick before. Everyone loved it. Apparently I’m even hotter when I can’t talk.” He boasts as if this is a good thing. 

Abigail laughs, “Yeah, I’m sure there are several reasons for that.” This elicits a pouty face and a middle finger from Harry. “God, you haven’t changed at all.” Abigail comments, laughing. “Okay, fine.” She says giving in. “We can walk, but you are wearing your own coat. And, if I miss this ride, I’m sleeping in your hotel bed and you get the couch.”

Harry nods. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

So after making arrangements for their driver to pick Harry up at the station, they are off. He feels sneaky and rebellious. It’s the first time in forever that he is alone in public, no bodyguards or security. Looking around at the desolate streets he confirms his safety. “This is wonderful.” He says as they walk. “I feel like I can shout out my name at the top of my lungs and no one would hear me.” 

“Please don’t.” Abigail begs. 

“Anonymity is a beautiful thing that you don’t miss until it’s gone.” Harry recites poetically. 

“That’s beautiful.” Abigail teases. “Giving me a preview of a new song?” She giggles. “A tragic look at the struggle of being a superstar.” 

Harry stares at Abigail for a minute before speaking, “It’s a lot harder than you think.” Abigail begins to stutter an apology when Harry speaks again. “I mean obviously there are lots of lovely things about this job. I’ve had so many incredible opportunities and experiences.” He pauses and frowns. “But I think I’ve lost myself somewhere along the way. Like I have no clue who I am anymore.” He bites his lip. “I’m so excited for this break because I desperately need time away from this life.” He confesses. “But like, what if it’s all gone away by the time I want to come back?”

Instead of responding, she honestly has no clue what to say to make the curly headed man in front of her feel better, she reaches over and slides her hand into his. “I’ll always be here.” She finally says, knowing that it holds no merit to the life of fame that he was actually referring too. Surprisingly though, he looks at her with such a softness and sweetness that she thinks maybe that’s exactly what he needed to hear. 

The pair walk in a comfortable silence for most of the trek to the tube station. They are reaching the bright lights of the platform when Harry speaks softly. “I’m sorry about earlier.” Abigail gives him a confused look so he continues. “I shouldn’t have changed the lyrics to the song. I’m really sorry if that made you uncomfortable or angry.”

Abigail swats him on the shoulder. “Don’t you dare apologize for that.” She lectures. “You were having fun at your concert, thank you for thinking so highly of me that you decided to change lyrics for me. I was just being stupid earlier.” Abigail assures him. “I hope someone got that on video, I’d really love to hear it again.” 

Harry smiles and Abigail is so relieved to see that dimpled smile again. She had gone practically the whole walk without it. 

They reach the station and suddenly it’s awkward. Neither knows how to wrap up the evening of weird events. Seeing a wishing fountain near the entrance, Harry drags Abigail over to it, clearly he’s pulled himself out of whatever funk he fell in on their walk. Fishing two coins out of his pocket he hands one to her. “Make a wish.” 

“Harry,” Abigail looks at her watch. “Its 3:11, I’ve got to go buy a ticket.”

“Just one wish,” Harry begs. “It’ll take two seconds.” He pleads with her, his green eyes rendering her powerless. 

“Fine.” She takes the coin, closes her eyes, and then throws it into the well. “You’re turn.” Harry repeats her same actions. 

The pair knows its time for Abigail to go. She’s pretty sure she can feel the ground shaking underneath her, a signal that the transport is getting close. She pulls Harry in for a hug, trying to memorize it all-his freckles, dimples, the color of his eyes- not knowing the next time she’ll get to see him again. She puts her arms around his neck tightly, taking in his scent, a mix of of his conditioner and cologne. “I’m going to miss you.” She whispers.

“What was your wish?” Harry whispers into her ear. His warm breath on her skin makes her whole body shiver. She shakes her head. She doesn’t want to do this now, she doesn’t have time. “What was your wish?” He asks again, firmer this time. 

Abigail sighs; she knows 3:17 is getting very close. As much as she knows she should leave, she can’t get herself to move. “What was yours?” 

Harry pulls away slightly from Abigail, so that he can look at her in the eyes. His right hand gently resting on her shoulder, while his left is brushing the hair away from her face. Taking her chin in his hand, he begins to guide her towards him. His eyes are gentle, and he’s moving slowly, as if he wants her to know that she can stop him if she wants. Giving her ample time to pull away, he finally does it. Their lips meet softly. They’ve just pulled apart when the chime for the tube rings. “Shit.” Harry says looking guilty. “I really wasn’t trying to make you miss your train.” Abigail shrugs and pulls Harry back to her, their second kiss is a bit longer but still just as innocent as the first. It’s as if they are recreating their first kisses way back in grade 7. 

“I’ve never had a wish come true that quickly.” Harry confides when they finally part again. 

Abigail’s eyes are shining. “Me too.” She admits. 

“Did we make the same wish?” Harry asks, smirking.

“Not quite,” Abigail admits. “I wished I would have a reason to stay the night with you.” She smiles at him. “Now,” she begins as she once again grabs his hand as they walk towards the parking lot, spotting their car. “How wonderful are these hotel beds? Like on a scale from waterbed to Tempur-Pedic?”

Harry laughs. “Are you implying that water beds aren’t comfortable?” He asks with mock offense. “I had a water bed until I was 15.”

“I know.” She quips back, moving on to her next topic. “Is there a tub with jets? Or what about one of those fancy showers made of glass?” Her excitement causes Harry to laugh. “You can’t mock me.” She scolds him. “These are all very important questions.”

Harry manages to control his laughter long enough to answer her questions. As they get into the back seat of the SUV, the driver turns around. He looks exhausted and Harry starts to feel a bit guilty for keeping him out this late. “Where to next?” He asks politely.

Harry wants to keep exploring, his kiss with Abigail having reenergized him. However, he knows the responsible thing to do is head back to the hotel. He does have a show tomorrow, and it’s kind of a big deal, he reasons. “Hotel.” The driver looks relieved, and soon they are on their way. The ride is quiet. Even though the back seat is massive, Abigail and Harry are sitting practically on top of one another. Their hands haven’t come undone once, almost as if they know that reality will find them if they let go. 

When they reach the hotel Harry is actually shocked to see that no one is around. No paps loitering at the entrance, and no fans begging to just get a peak of the curly headed boy. The two quickly get out of the car, thanking the driver, before running inside. 

Harry apologetically provides Abigail with an oversized jumper when they reach his room. He’s embarrassed by the mess of clothes on the floor. Usually, he doesn’t spend enough time in a hotel room to get it messy, but they had been in Sheffield for four days now. Abigail waves off his apology and heads to the bathroom to change. Harry’s changing in the main room when he hears her squeal. Clearly, she’s discovered the bathtub with the jets. Harry peaks into the room as he’s pulling a t-shirt over his head. Abigail is inspecting every inch of the bathroom, only looking up when Harry laughs softly. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” Abigail pouts. “This bathroom is just-“ She can’t even find the word to describe it. “I would give up my entire apartment to live in a bathroom like this.” Harry doesn’t even try to contain his laughter now. “I’m serious.” She insists. “It’s beautiful.” She rubs her cheek on the cool granite counter top, and sighs contently. 

Harry walks over to Abigail, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. “It sounds like you are still a bit drunk.” He muses, not that he really minds. She appears to be holding her liquor way better than he did. “Why don’t we get you in bed?” He suggests. Abigail takes his hand and follows him back out into the main room. He’s already pulled back to the duvet, and Abigail quietly slips in. 

Harry suddenly feels awkward. He knows that he originally said he would sleep on the couch, and he will. It’s just that with the kissing and almost having sex in a bar thing, he kind of wants to sleep in the bed with her. The inner turmoil is resolved when Abigail pats the other side of the bed, giving Harry all of the encouragement he needs to join her in the bed. 

Turning out the main light, he comes and gets into the bed with Abigail. She’s already snuggled herself into the sheets, clearly she approves of her sleeping arrangements. 

Harry’s about to turn off the bedside light when Abigail speaks. “Sing for me.” Her voice sounds tired, but her smile is as sweet as ever.

“I don’t know.” Harry begins. “In case you don’t remember I already sang over 20 songs tonight, I’ll probably sound like shit.” He confesses.

“No you won’t, you sound like an angel anytime you open your mouth.”

Harry pauses for a moment. “What would you like me to sing?” He’s not sure why he’s agreeing to this. His throat is already a bit sore from singing two concerts in a row. 

“Anything.” Abigail says sleepily. Her eyelids keep fluttering, trying desperately to stay open.

“I could sing you your special rendition of ‘18’,” He jokes.

Abigail shakes her head. “No, you already sang that to me tonight. I want to hear something new.”

Harry thinks for a minute. He wishes he had Niall to accompany him on the guitar, but since it’s nearly 4 in the morning he’s guessing Niall would just as rather not be awoken for an impromptu concert in Harry’s bed. After clearing his throat, Harry starts to softly sing. 

_You and me were raised in the same part of town,_

_Got these scars on the same ground_

_Remember how we used to kick around, just wasting time?_

_Won’t you stay till the AM?_

_All my favorite conversations are always made in the AM, yeah_

_‘Cause we don’t know what we’re saying_

_We’re just swimming around in our glasses and talking out of our asses_

_Like we’re all gonna make it, yeah_

Abigail is nearly asleep when Harry finishes, but she lazily opens her eyes to compliment his song. “That was lovely.” She pauses and Harry thinks she’s fallen asleep when she speaks again. “Did you just come up with that off the cuff? Because it describes our night perfectly.”

“It’s a song off our new album.” Harry explains softly. “First time it’s ever been sung to an audience.”

“It’s perfect.” Abigail murmurs, before quickly falling asleep. Her breathing even and calm, Harry smiles at how peaceful she looks.

Turning off the bedside lamp, Harry gets comfortable in his bed. Looking over at Abigail one more time, he kisses her softly on the forehead before quietly saying, “Goodnight.” 

\----

When Harry wakes up the next morning the first thing he notices is how bright it is in his room. Usually he keeps the curtains drawn, mostly for privacy reasons but also for mornings like this when he wakes up hung-over as shit. Snapping his eyes back shut, he groans as he rolls over and shoves his face into the pillow. He stretches out his arm to the other side of the bed, only opening his eyes again when he realizes it’s empty. 

Forcing himself to look around the sunlit room, he doesn’t see Abigail anywhere. He immediately checks his phone to see if she’s already left and sent him a goodbye text. Thankfully, he has no new messages from her. It’s then that he hears humming from the bathroom. Filled with sudden energy, Harry gets out of bed and heads towards the bathroom, only stopping at the mirror to make sure his hair is an acceptable amount of bedhead. Running his fingers through it a bit to comb out the biggest knots, Harry knocks on the door lightly before entering.

He’s not surprised with what he finds before him. Abigail has drawn herself a bubble bath, which she is now soaking in, jets and all. Her eyes are closed, head relaxing against the back of the tub. She’s got headphones in, and is humming softly to the beat. Harry suddenly feels like he is intruding on her privacy, so he slowly backs out of the room.

Harry lays back in bed, looking at a clock for the first time and discovers that its nearly noon. He can’t believe he slept that long, but suddenly all he wants to do is take a nap. Hearing Abigail splash in the bathtub, he decides he’ll close his eyes for a minute. Just until she’s finished.

\---

The next time Harry wakes the curtains have been drawn. Thankful for the dimmer room, he opens his eyes and is surprised when realizes Abigail’s body is pressed against his, his arm around her waist. The smell of her hair infuses his nostrils, her hair is still wet and the smell is strong. Incredibly confused but not necessarily angry at this predicament, he clears his throat trying to figure out if she’s asleep or not. 

“Hey sleepy head.” Abigail calls out softly, releasing herself from Harry’s arms to turn over and face him. Harry smiles before asking what time it is. “About 1:30, I think?” 

“Well we certainly are just sleeping this day away, aren’t we?” He jokes, voice still raspy from sleep. 

“Speak for yourself, I’ve already eaten breakfast and showered.” She says smiling.

“And taken a bath.” He smirks. 

She smiles again. “You honestly didn’t think that I would leave this suite before trying out that bathtub did you?”

Harry shakes his head. “Nope, you made your love for that bathroom incredibly clear last night.” He pauses, eyes sparkling. “Was it all you thought it would be?”

“More. It has raised my standards of bathrooms to new impossible heights.” She jokes. “How did you know I took a bath?”

Harry looks embarrassed but then confesses. “I woke up a little while ago and saw you in there. Figured you might want a little privacy, so I came back out and apparently fell asleep again.” He shrugs. “I fell asleep alone out here.” He grins. “So how did I come to wake up with you in my arms?”

Now its Abigail’s turn to be embarrassed. “Once I got out of the bathroom I decided to get back in bed with you. The cuddling was all you though.” She smiles. “I stayed on my side, and suddenly you rolled over and then.” She laughs. “You know the rest.”

Harry isn’t quite sure he believes her, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t really care either. It had been a nice way to wake up. “Well, whatever the cause it was lovely waking up to the smell of your hair.” The duo stare at each other for a moment before Abigail looks away. 

“You know, we really need to get moving. I’m sure you’ve got things you need to do.” Abigail stammers, getting out of the bed. Harry pouts but Abigail doesn’t see it. He stays in bed while she looks around the room for her clothing. 

“My clothes probably stink,” She says, not wanting to change out of Harry’s jumper. Harry nods sympathetically; very aware of the stench a night out in a bar can leave on your clothes. 

“Why not just wear some of my clothes?” He suggests. Getting out of bed, he digs through his bag until he finds a pair of jeans. “They’ll be too long, but they’ll probably fit.”

The look on her face shows that she’s clearly not convinced. “I don’t know, you’re pretty skinny.” 

“Skinny?” Harry exclaims with mock disgust. “I’m not skinny, I’m muscular.” He throws the jeans at her. “Trust me, they’ll fit.” He walks into the bathroom, giving her some privacy. 

She puts them on and to her surprise they do fit, rather tightly, but she supposes that’s how they are supposed to fit anyway. She has to roll them a few times so that they aren’t dragging the ground, but after combining them with a button down shirt and one of Harry’s bohemian hats she has to say that she actually digs the look. 

When Harry steps out of the bathroom again, he looks at her for a moment before declaring. “Bloody hell, you look like a feminine version of me.” He gives her two thumbs up to show his approval. “We should definitely go out and get papped dressed like this, just like twins.” He laughs, clearly not serious. 

“What time do you have to leave?” She asks, sitting down on the couch. She watches Harry as he gets dressed. He opts to go for simple black skinny jeans and a cotton t-shirt. 

“I’ve got a meet and greet at four, I believe.” He says, walking back into the bathroom. She follows him and discovers he’s brushing his teeth. 

“Well, then I guess we have two hours.” Abigail says, an excited look in her eye. “What should we do?”

Abigail waits patiently for Harry to spit and swallow before he speaks. “If we go anywhere it will be a mad house, an absolute zoo.” He takes a sip of water and gargles with it. “Last night was really quite incredibly rare, I’m really glad you didn’t have to experience the insanity.” He wipes his mouth and hands on a towel. “And, if you get photographed and end up in a tabloid I’d never forgive myself.”

“Why not?” She asks as the two walk back into the main room, sitting down on the couch together. 

“Suddenly you’ll be my new girlfriend. People everywhere will be trying to figure out who you are. You’ll start getting nasty messages from fans, crazy messages from them too. The tour is literally over tonight. Maybe in a couple months, after the album release, people won’t care as much.” Harry sighs, knowing that he doesn’t even believe his own words. People will always care. They will always care way _way_ too much about his personal life. 

“If you think it’s such a bad idea to go out, we can just hang out here.” She gestures to the large hotel room. 

Harry frowns. “I just hate that I have to quarantine you to a hotel room instead of exploring the city.” Harry is suddenly angry. Not at Abigail, but rather himself, his management, the paparazzi waiting outside of his hotel, everyone. “I hate that being a part of this band has caused me to not be able to act like a human.” He admits. “You know, in the entirety of my time in this band, I haven’t been able to keep a girlfriend for more than three months?” Abigail isn’t quite sure how to respond to this revelation; luckily Harry doesn’t give her time to talk before he continues. “It’s always the same thing- ‘I like you, but’ or ‘I’ve had fun,but-.” He pauses. “This lifestyle is impossible.“ He suddenly stops, realizing all that he’s just revealed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you.”

Abigail gives a sad smile. “I can’t even begin to imagine what that must feel like.”

“I never know anyone’s intentions.” He confesses. “Like, are they here for me or are they here for Harry Styles and One Direction?” He gives Abigail this look that is truly heartbreaking. All she wants to do is give him a hug. So she does. Embracing Harry in her arms, she lets him sink into her. She can feel him shaking, so she rubs soft circles on his back with her hand, and gently kisses his neck over and over. Eventually, he pulls away from her, the embrace coming to a natural conclusion. He looks at her, eyes red but looking significantly more hopeful than a few minutes before. He wipes his eyes on his sleeve before giving an awkward laugh. “Well, I’m sorry for making that uncomfortable.” 

“Friends help friends.” Abigail explains simply. “I like to think I give pretty bomb hugs too.” This causes Harry to laugh. “Anymore confessions?” She teases in a lighthearted manner.

“Think I’m all good for now.” Harry replies back. 

“Good, because I’m starving. We’ll have a picnic here in the hotel room.” She decides. “It’s plenty big. Then maybe after I’ll go explore the bathroom some more.” This causes Harry to laugh. Abigail is getting off the couch to find the room service menu when she turns to face Harry once more. “And, just incase you didn’t know, I’ll always love ‘just Harry’ way more than Harry Styles of One Direction.” She smiles. “Promise.” 

Harry doesn’t know how to respond to that, but it turns out he doesn’t have to because she turns on her heels attempting to find the menu in the midst of Harry’s mess. He’s not quite sure what he thinks, but he doesn’t try to hide the smile that’s creeping onto his face. 

\---

Harry and Abigail’s picnic in the hotel room is perfect. They sit on a blanket and even use plastic utensils and dishware. Since last night Harry quizzed Abigail on her life, she deems it only fair to use their picnic as a time to find out all about Harry’s. A lot of it she already knows, but she’ll never admit. She’d much rather hear it straight from his mouth than gossip sites anyway. It’s lovely and simple conversation. _Easy._ When Harry finally looks at his watch he can’t believe that its nearly 3:30. He’s got 30 minutes to get Abigail onto the tube and be back at the stadium for the meet and greet. 

Harry can see the disappointment in Abigail’s face when he tells her they have to get moving. She tries to hide it, but he can still tell that she doesn’t want the day to end. He’s feeling that way too. He’s got about a million things to say to her, but has no clue how to get them all out. Without the luxury of alcohol to help with conversation, he’s been much more awkward. It isn’t until they are in an SUV driving back to the nearest tube station that he finally speaks.

“Thank you for coming to the show, love.” He says, taking hold of her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Last night was one for the books.” 

“It certainly was.” Abigail agreed. She pauses. She starts to speak again, right as Harry does. He motions for her to continue. “No you go ahead.” She insists, not quite sure what she wants to say anyway. 

“I can’t have a girlfriend right now.” He says simply, a trace of sadness in his voice. "I’ve learned that this life is pretty toxic for relationships anyway.” He pauses. “And I don’t want you to live like this anyway. It’s wonderful but its also nasty and cruel.” Abigail squeezes his hand. “I’ll be traveling for the next couple of weeks promoting the new album.” He goes onto explain. “All over the UK, America, I think we are even going to Canada.” She nods, gesturing for him to continue. “I’ll be flying back home on Christmas Eve.” He waits for her response, but she doesn’t say anything. “I’ll be in Holmes Chapel.” He looks at her expectantly.

“Well, what do you know.” Abigail says, finally speaking. “I’ll be there for Christmas too.” Harry smiles.

“So, maybe I’ll see you at the Christmas Eve service? Or even better, on New Years Eve?” He grins. “I’ll need someone to kiss at midnight.”

Abigail rolls her eyes. “Dear lord, how long did it take for you to come up with that pick up line?” He laughs as she continues. “I’ll make sure to reserve that time slot just for you.” She promises. 

Harry squeezes her hand, and pulls her close to him in a hug. He knows they are running out of time. He kisses the top of her head, and slowly makes his way down her face, kissing her forehead, nose, and finally lips. “You’re beautiful.” He says. So much has changed since he confessed this to her last night at the bar. This time he wants to make sure she hears it and knows it. Abigail smiles, and buries her face in Harry’s chest. 

The car is pulling up to the station, and Abigail begins to untangle herself from Harry. She knows he can’t walk her to her platform; he has to stay in the car. _Because he’s Harry Styles._ “So see you soon?” She asks, her hand on the door. Harry nods, kissing her once more. Abigail stands outside the door for a second before reaching into her pocket. Pulling a piece of paper out, she places it in Harry’s hand. “The memories we can’t remember.” She reminds him. He looks at the pictures in his hand. 

Smiling, he tears the frame of pictures; keeping the one of their kiss and handing the other two back to her. “I’m glad I can remember this.” He says. 

And then she’s gone. 

Harry watches her walk into the station; his jeans do look quite lovely on her. He might just let her keep them after all.

\---

That night when the boys take the stage for the final time there is lots of emotion, from the band and fans alike. Harry knows his mom and sister are in the crowd, he wishes he could see them, but he knows that making eye contact with them would only induce more tears. This is the end of an era. It’s not the end of One Direction, but it’s certainly leading his life in a new direction than the dream that became his reality five years before. The future is so incredibly uncertain, so the boys dance, sing, and cheer louder than they have before. During “Act My Age” they stop everything and just have a dance party, right there on stage. As they are singing “18”, one of their final songs of the night, a smile creeps across Harry’s face that doesn’t leave for the rest of the night. His musical future may be a bit uncertain; he has no clue where he’ll be a year from now as an artist. However, if taking that leap of faith means he gets to try to have an actual relationship, damn, it might just be worth the risk.

**Author's Note:**

> The song that Harry sings to Abigail is actually the song AM from their new album. I just heard a snippet of it today and I'm already SO OBSESSED! Go check it out on the One Direction youtube page, they've released several snips of different songs. One more week until the album is out!!!
> 
> Also, if any of you are reading my other story, Mind, Body, and Spirt, a new chapter will be up soon. I couldn't get this story out of my head, but now that its out on paper I'm focused on the other again. 
> 
> Please share any thoughts or comments below!:)


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